51. Ivory
After freshening up, she discarded her shirt and scrambled onto the now-clear table. The wood felt cold against her bare skin, hard and solid as she lay down. She took a final glance at Adrian; his back turned as he meticulously dried their dishes with a towel.
How many minutes did she have left? Would he make her wait if she got ready early?
Her heart pounded as she bent her knees and spread her legs, barely making them shoulder-width apart, when the nature of the position sent a shiver down her spine. With her head straight, her line of sight became restricted to the ceiling. The plain white left her thoughts to wonder while every cell in her body called out for its master. For his touch. For his praise. His commands.
She closed her eyes and moved her feet apart another few inches. Goosebumps rose along her skin, yet she felt hot—needy—exactly as Adrian said she was this morning. Exactly as he willed her to be.
Breathe .
Her thoughts mirrored the tone he’d use. Each inhale seeking his scent. Open and exposed, her pussy clenched around nothing but want.
“Very good, Iv.”
She sighed at the sound of his voice, which cut through her restlessness and resonated to the bone. His hand caressed her ankle, lips following.
“Beautiful.”
He skimmed up to the inside of her knee, and she basked in his praise.
“For coming on my fingers at the club, you earned another inch.” The warm trail of his breath moved over her thigh and hovered past the joint of her leg. She hummed in gratitude.
“You have no idea how proud you made me,” he murmured. “How hard I get just thinking about it. How wet you were from being fucked outside in the alley. I’m tempted to go back and make you do it again. Strap a vibrator to your cunt and see how long you last without making a sound.”
He exhaled with a soft, low groan and ran his teeth along the curve of her hip. Her pussy melted, dripping onto the table as she tried not to squirm. “So sexy. You enrapture me, Iv.”
Her hands curled as he moved farther up, away from where she needed him most. He skimmed under her breasts in false kisses, avoiding her nipples as he spoke into her skin. “That makes five inches in one day. At this rate, the game will be over too soon, and we can’t have that.”
Dread crept up her spine. He moved to her collarbone and spoke against the rapid flutter of her pulse. “Today, you have two rules. Come when I give you permission, and you’ll earn an inch. Come without permission, and you’ll lose an inch.”
To accentuate the point, his finger hooked deep in her pussy. She gasped at the sudden pressure, the harsh friction as he dragged it out then curled it back in. He kissed her lips and devoured her reaction with a satisfied hum.
But his affection came at a price. The pleasure she’d waited so long for had become a double-edged sword. All the progress she’d made could be lost…
“Do you understand?”
Her muscles tensed, and she sucked in a breath. This was a test, and she’d pass. He wouldn’t let her fail. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Adrian withdrew his finger, and she moaned in agony. No matter what he did, this was going to be torture. To have his touch and not be able to come was near impossible, but to go without him entirely would be infinitely worse.
“Hands above your head. Hold onto the edge of the table.”
She did as instructed, raising her arms and curling her fingers under the lip of the wood. Adrian grabbed her hips and tugged forward, pulling her body straight. His palms smoothed apart her thighs and pressed them down until she spread as wide as possible. Next went her feet, which were placed on two chairs so her thighs rested flat.
Splayed open like a butterfly on display, she trembled in suspense. A whine left her lips.
She already needed him again—could hardly breathe without his touch—and he knew it. He could see what he’d done in a matter of seconds—watched as her body swelled with the effort of pleasing him. He enjoyed seeing how dark and pink she must have gotten with all the blood rushing between her legs, the slick that coated every inch of her folds.
As if summoned, his fingers entered her with slow and deliberate strokes, hitting her weak spot with each excruciating curl. She clutched the table harder, nails digging into the wood.
“Are you close?” he asked.
Unbearably. Unthinkably. Uncontrollably.
“Yes,” she breathed, quickly adding, “Sir.”
“Hold it.”
She grunted, then clamped her jaw shut as his other hand pinched her nipple. He rolled it between his fingers, tugging it this way and that until her clit screamed with envy. Her pussy clenched on his hand, strained with the effort of resisting release.
Her pants echoed into the ceiling, each one heavier, each hammer of her heart pounding a stake through her chest.
In. Out. Tug. Pinch. Roll.
It took everything she had not to cry and plead for release.
Breathe.
Forcing her eyes open, she blinked up at the ceiling. Her vision sharpened, the world vivid and psychedelic, verging on the border of pain. Then his hand finally slid out.
“Good girl.”
She almost cried at the warmth in his voice, her eyes welling with tears of near relief.
“Do you want to come now?”
Yes. God, yes. But that much was obvious, and she knew the right answer. “Only if I’m allowed, sir.”
“Very good,” he hummed, and the smile on his lips took her breath away as he leaned in for a kiss. His mouth soothed away the ache as she calmed down. Once her head became clear again, he pulled away. “You’re not allowed to come. Don’t let go of the table.”
In another reality, she would’ve broken the scene. Forced him to give her what she was owed and impaled herself to the hilt because if she hadn’t earned that by now, then what had this all been for?
The surrender. The need. The game. The reward, waiting on the other side of her obedience. She’d become merely a pawn for him to use, and her body bowed at the thought. He could split her in two from words alone, and she’d let him.
Her hands tightened on the table as he spread her labia apart. Lightly, he pressed on her clit and rubbed lazy circles that felt like tiny electric jolts. Her back arched. He sunk two fingers inside her.
“Name four of Jupiter’s moons.”
“What?” she sputtered.
“Jupiter has ninety-two moons. Surely you can name four.”
She glared at the ceiling. Of all times, now? It took every ounce of her concentration to count her breaths, and he wanted her to name moons?
A second finger crooked inside her. “Don’t make me wait.”
Oh, he’d really done it now—
The fingers twisted, and a ruefully obscene moan fell from her lips. Fine. Fine! At this rate, the one thread holding her together was fraying. She needed to finish as fast as possible.
“Europa,” she panted. That one was the easiest. The others would take more effort to remember—effort currently being used to not succumb to his torment.
Nothing she’d done had ever been this difficult. No academic test could ever hold a candle to his sadism. Her muscles bunched as her pussy sang, toes stretching to escape euphoria for even a second longer.
Adrian continued with relentless precision. “Good. Keep going.”
That bastard.
“Io.” The word elongated as it left her lips, transforming into another wretched moan as he increased the pressure. Her clit had a heartbeat of its own. Both her body and her brain had reached their limit, but the next moon was on the tip of her tongue…just a little more…she could do it.
His mouth closed around her nipple.
“No, please, no!” The tears of gratitude from earlier turned against her, rolling down her cheeks in a hot stream.
He didn’t stop.
With expert touch, he let her tumble into the abyss. Pleasure consumed every rational thought. It burned through her like a wildfire, beautiful and devastating, obliterating everything in its wake. It dragged her under its control and stripped away what dignity she had left.
She sobbed and shook, nearly rolling onto the floor from the impact. But as the orgasm began to fade, a bitter wave of remorse replaced the high. She’d lost. She came without his permission.
She failed her black knight.